


Promises Made in Ink

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Organized Crime, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Star-crossed, Tattoos, Yakuza Katsuki Yuuri, plot what plot but oops there's plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: Yuuri, leader of the Katsuki yakuza family, receives a surprise visit from his secret boyfriend, Viktor Nikiforov of the Russian Bratva.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 32
Kudos: 207





	Promises Made in Ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dachi/gifts).



> This was written for Dachi and beta’d by Rikichie and Phy! Thanks friends!

Yuuri was panting by the end of his spar, sweat weaving between his shoulder blades and down into his waistband. He’d long abandoned his shirt as the summer heat grew sweltering, even with the slight breeze through the open doors. His trainer removed his helmet with a groan, clearly sore. Yuuri had landed quite a few strikes, if the pleasant ache in his forearms and legs was any hint. 

“You’re dismissed, Yamaguchi-san.” Yuuri said, feeling tired in the best way. “Thank you.”

His trainer bowed and left the room, padding away with a slight limp. Yuuri grimaced at the sight, but he couldn’t afford to go easy on his training. Not with the formidable threats lurking at every corner, hiding in plain sight. His lot had been cast when he was born into this family, and he couldn’t change that now. 

After his father had stepped down, Yuuri took his place, easily fitting into the place that had been prepared for him. What he _hadn’t_ been expecting was the ensuing chaos that the Bratva caused. The Russians made Yuuri’s life a living hell, intercepting shipments, making low-level enforcers disappear. Finally fed up with the threats, Yuuri arranged for a parlay of sorts. It was barely fruitful, of course, as so many negotiations with the Bratva were.

Vasily Nikiforov ran his organization with brutal efficiency, but Yuuri found himself a bit of a loophole in the Russian machine after that meeting. Dangerous, yes, but a very advantageous and… _pleasurable_ loophole.

Yuuri blew out a long breath, feeling himself shudder at the memory of that night in Shanghai, those unforgettable blue eyes meeting his own in a dark warehouse on the docks. A chill ran down the length of his spine despite the heat. With the extra thrum of energy buzzing below his skin Yuuri drew a practice sword from the rack and worked slowly through his rotation of poses. 

He hadn’t heard the door opening and closing, having fallen into the still, meditative state of his practice. It wasn’t until he had made his way through his rotation twice that he paused for a drink, to wipe away the sheen of sweat beading on his brow, the nape of his neck. 

“I’ve been sitting here for half an hour and you _still_ haven’t greeted me, Katsuki-sama.” A familiar voice crooned from behind him. Any other voice would have startled him, but _this_ voice was a welcome surprise. 

Yuuri turned slowly, finding Viktor splayed dramatically over a pile of cushions near the open exterior door, his skin flushed with the heat. He hadn’t told Yuuri he was planning a visit, but things often were rather hasty with a relationship as secretive as theirs. Sure, most of the Katsuki family knew who Viktor was, and who he was to Yuuri, who he was to the Bratva… but none dare speak a word to unfamiliar ears. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming, Vitya,” Yuuri said with a smile, sheathing his practice weapon and grabbing an extra bottle of water. “How long has it been, two weeks?”

“Two weeks of abject _torture_ ,Yuuri.” Viktor replied with a pained, pleading expression. “Being away from you is always awful.”

Yuuri chuckled and took a seat on the floor beside him. “I know, I know. I feel the same way.” Viktor gladly accepted the water, downing it almost in one go. “Thirsty?”

“Clearly,” Viktor answered with a familiar gleam in his eye. “Aren’t you?”

“Oh, positively parched.”

Viktor smirked and it was over, Yuuri was on him, pressing his body into the cushions and straddling his thighs. Viktor moaned breathlessly against Yuuri’s lips, his mouth moving around words that Yuuri didn’t recognize but swallowed down regardless. Viktor was needy and pliant below him, the hardened muscle of his stomach and his powerful thighs shivered with Yuuri’s weight on him. His bare chest pressed against Viktor’s and it was all Viktor could do but hold on, gripping tightly at Yuuri’s tattooed arms. 

The tattoos were one of Viktor’s favorite things about Yuuri, the distinct colors and patterns marking him as the _oyabun_ , leader. Clouds of gray smoke wrapped around his forearms and up to his shoulders, sakura blossoms and falling petals dusted the spaces between and a gold and crimson coiled dragon covered his back and dipped below his waist, smoke billowing from its mouth. Every single dot of color was placed there by hand, a single needle leaving ink behind in his skin.

Viktor’s fingers found the nape of Yuuri’s neck, grasping desperately for purchase as Yuuri worked his crisp button-up open, his hands smoothing over Viktor’s chest as soon as the skin was exposed. At the back of Yuuri’s neck was Viktor’s own name in Cyrillic, tattooed by Viktor’s own hand. 

“Yuuri, _please_ ,” Viktor begged, nearly sobbing with relief as Yuuri worked both his underwear and tight woolen trousers down over his ass in one quick movement. “Please, I need you.”

Viktor’s legs parted easily, his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip where foreskin pulled away from the head; he was an utter wreck, desperate and shaking, but Yuuri still paused for a moment to kiss the black ink stamped into his skin. 

勇利 in perfect, clean strokes rested on the crest of Viktor’s hip, tucked just inside the line of his right iliac furrow. His cock twitched in his sweatpants at the sight of it, of Viktor, born and raised son of the Bratva, next in line to become Pakhan, was marked with _Yuuri’s_ name. 

“God, Vitya,” Yuuri moaned against Viktor’s hip, his mouth sliding open against heated skin. He could feel Viktor’s body clenching beneath him, muscle quivering and shaking. “You’re beautiful for me, perfect.”

Viktor sobbed a moan, his cock jumping at the praise. “I… I want to be beautiful for you,” Viktor’s voice hitched around the admission. “Yuuri, d-don’t make me wait,” he continued, his chest heaving. 

Yuuri pressed one last languid kiss to Viktor’s hip, smoothing his tongue down the line of his iliac crest; Viktor squirmed, a shaky whine of Yuuri’s name falling from his lips. His fingers laced into Yuuri’s hair, grasping with trembling hands as Yuuri’s lips met the base of his cock and danced up his shaft. Under Yuuri’s hands, Viktor felt like he might shake apart, his thighs trembled where they rested against Yuuri’s ears.

“Yuuri, _Yuuri,_ ” Viktor begged, his voice breaking off as Yuuri’s lips parted around the head of his cock, easily sliding down to the root. _“Please!”_

The sound of Viktor begging did unnameable things to Yuuri, heat coiling impossibly tighter in his core. He ground his hips downward into the cushion below, any friction against his cock felt utterly delicious, but not more than Viktor’s hand felt in his hair, or the sudden grip of his thighs around his head as he swallowed around Viktor’s cock. 

“Yuuri, wait, I--” Viktor panted, squirming in a way that made it clear he wanted no more. Yuuri pulled off, and was completely unprepared to see the mess he had made of Viktor. He was flushed, from his belly button to the tips of his ears, his chest heaved with the mere effort of breathing; his lips were bitten red and his perfectly coiffed silver hair had fallen into disarray. 

“Everything alright?” Yuuri asked, his voice admittedly a bit hoarse. Viktor nodded, holding up one finger to wordlessly ask for a moment. Yuuri sat back on his heels and enjoyed the image for another long moment, Viktor laid out like a feast in the afternoon sunshine. Sweat was beginning to sluice down the muscled valleys of his abs and between his pecs, and Yuuri wanted to chase that sweat with his tongue. 

He’d map every inch of Viktor’s body with his mouth if he could, spend every moment of his life documenting the dips and swells of his form, worshipping him like the dutiful parishioner he was.

“I was too close.” Viktor said after a few minutes. “I didn’t want things to end yet.”

Yuuri laughed softly and nodded. “You know I’d give you enough time to recover.” Viktor flushed at that. Rarely did their rounds only last one orgasm each. Yuuri wasn’t that type of man. He didn’t stop until Viktor was wrung out completely, and they both were fucked brainless. 

“Are you ready?” Yuuri asked softly, hooking his thumbs into the waist of his sweats. Viktor nodded and rolled onto his stomach, canting his hips up and back, revealing precisely why he had been so eager. “A plug?”

“I had to do _something_ on the flight over, my phone was dead.” Viktor replied, and Yuuri didn’t withhold his urge to touch the toy between Viktor’s cheeks. “I’m ready Yuuri, I’ve touched myself every night thinking about you.”

Yuuri didn’t have to be told twice; he worked the toy from Viktor’s body and watched his rim flutter around nothing, before pushing two fingers into his hole and finding him still wet. “God, I’m almost jealous that you didn’t tell me you were doing this…” Yuuri moaned as he shoved his pants to his knees and slicked himself up with the lube on his fingers. 

“I wanted to surprise you-” Viktor began, only to cut himself off with a sharp cry when Yuuri pressed in. “Yuuri, I, _fuck_ , I’m not going to last long,” Viktor warned, his body already clenching tight around Yuuri’s cock. 

“I know, Vitya, I won’t either.” Yuuri breathed, setting a harsh pace as pleasure threatened to overwhelm him already. “I missed you, so much it hurt,” Yuuri shuddered a breath through gritted teeth, clinging to the sensation of Viktor around him, the feeling of his flesh under his hands, the sound of his moans in Yuuri’s ears. How much longer would they be able to keep this up?

When would the world come crashing back down?

Viktor came with a shout of Yuuri’s name, wrenching him back to the moment and pulling him over the edge with him. 

The comedown was slow, golden like honey in the summer afternoon. The question that had been plaguing Yuuri since Viktor arrived finally made its appearance. 

“Why did you come here, Vitya?” Yuuri asked, kissing Viktor’s throat. 

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Yuuri sat up, perfectly still. "I left the Bratva. My father told me not to come back… I read between the lines.”

Yuuri held him close to his chest, feeling Viktor’s frame beginning to shake. “You’re here with me now, Vitya.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring the admission they hadn’t yet shared. “I love you. You’re safe now.”

“I love you too.” Viktor replied, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is... the beginning of something longer, and no one is surprised. All of you have Dachi and Rikichie to thank for this. I don't have more written at this time, but stay tuned! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Love you all, stay safe and healthy.
> 
> ❤️ ia  
> [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/ia_theauthor) | [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com)


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